The Lunari Orphan
by MasterNightingale
Summary: One cold night, a blade flashes from the darkness. It leaves behind an orphan, a rare Lunari elf. Will this child be consumed by darkness, or overcome and change Skyrim forever?
1. Chapter 1: Beginning

_Chapter 1: Beginning_

_**Author's note**__: This is my first fan-fiction story, to be released in a chapter format; a new chapter each week. It is based on the video game "Skyrim" and a custom race created for the game, "Lunari Race" by Skyrim Nexus member bhaktisean. Permission was given for the use of the custom race in the following story:_

_**4E 182, 3 Frostfall**_

In the fourth era, year 182, 3 of Frostfall, and an elven woman was traveling through the land of Skyrim under the cover of night. It was cold, as Skyrim always is, but the moon gave a dim light to the land. She carried no torch, walking in darkness, and her eyes flitted back and forth across the path she traveled. The woman was a Lunari elf, a descendant from the unlikely union of a Nord and Sun'Li tree elf. It was only a few years after the war with the Aldmeri Dominion had ended, and anti-elven sentiment was at a boiling high...

She walked quickly through the forest of Falkreath, staying far from the road, and staying near the coast of Lake Ilinalta. The forest was quiet, and in the moonlight she could barely see fifteen feet ahead. The the forest was eerily quiet, no birds, no animals made a sound. She was nearly around the lake when a voice called out from the darkness: "Well, well, what have we here?". Three large Nords were blocking her path. "An elf by the looks of it."

"And not just any elf, a Lunari viper," called out another. "I'll bet she's come to Skyrim to spread more of her filth."

"Please", the woman asked, "let me go". As she spoke, her hand slowly moved to the hilt of the dagger on her hip, but stayed just above it.

"Oh I don't think so elf," a woman spat from behind her, "Your kind has caused enough trouble, I think it's time you paid for your sins." The woman had crept up behind her without her noticing. Now four Nords had surrounded her, each with a sword in hand. The forest trees didn't offer much room to maneuver; every direction she turned she faced a new blade. The wolves circled viciously. "Please", she repeated again, but this time as a distraction. As soon as she had said it, she whipped the dagger from its sheath and leapt at the nearest Nord, driving the blade deep into his throat. He gurgled and looked at her with fear in his eyes, but she had leapt off him and spun around to parry a blow aimed at her head. Her blade was like a serpent's fangs, biting and cutting any who got too close, but she was being hemmed in. Were it not for the bundle in her arm, she would have made short work of the Nords, but she was protecting it with her life. Now she was backed against a tree, fighting desperately to survive. She dodged a swipe at her legs, parried one to her chest, and pricked the hand that sent it. She parried high blow at the temple and moved to block another; as steel was driven between her ribs, pinning her to the tree. None had heard the child's cries as the bloodlust was upon them, but as the woman slumped down, the three remaining Nords saw the babe she still held on to.

"Another?" The Nords looked on incredulously. "I say we kill this one too. I saw enough elves fighting the Dominion, Skyrim doesn't need any more."

"Is that so?" A large Orc in Imperial armor stood behind them, just a few yards away. Through the dim light, it was just possible to see the gleam of an arrow, notched and drawn to the speaker's jaw. "All I see are a few barbaric Nords, fighting a war that ended years ago. I think I saw enough Nords in the war with the Aldmeri", he said as he let the arrow fly into the chest of the woman.

"Silvi!" One of the men cried out as he charged at the orc, holding both his sword and that of the woman. As soon as he got close, the Orc drew his own battleaxe, parried the man's attack, and lopped off his head. The other Nord tried to run, but the Orc picked up his bow, and shot him through the heart.

"Ma'am?" The Orc rushed over to the Lunari woman, pulling her off the tree. He left the blade in, to extend her life, but he had no potion to preserve it. "Ma'am? It's okay now, they're all dead," he glanced around, "or dying." She struggled for every breath, in obvious pain, but still she clutched the child in her arms.

"Please..." she gasped, "take care of her." The Orc looked in surprise as she handed him the small child, but he did not refuse. "Call her... Selene..."

_**4E 183, 13 Morning Star**_

An Orc man rode through the Reach, following the river Karth past the city of Markarth. He rode quickly, on a sturdy-horse, that appeared to have seen it's share of battle, judging from the scars on it's flanks. He stopped a short distance from the city and crossed the river. Up he rode, passing through a small valley and coming upon a small ruin on the cliff overlooking the river. He dismounted, and took things from his horse: a Nord man bound in chains, and a small bundle, from which faint cries were heard. He had found his home.

_**4E 201, 7 Second Seed**_

Selene woke to the smell of apple and cabbage stew, steeping in the cooking pot. A gruff Orc, sitting on a wooden bench, stirred the pot and lifted the ladle to his lips for taste. "Rorgul!" Selene moaned, "I told you not to let me sleep so late today! Thronir was going to take me hunting!"

"Ah you needed the rest," Rorgul replied, "besides, you don't eat venison anyways. Why else would I be cooking this"—he pointed at the stew—"except for you?" Rorgul, as you may have guessed, was the Orc in Imperial armor that night. He was in the Legion during the war with the Dominion, and he was passing through Falkreath hold the night Selene's mother was killed. He retired from the Legion after the war; he has no family, but considers Selene his daughter.

"Oh Rorgul, I know you're trying to take care of me, but how will I ever get better with the bow if all I do is practice with targets all day? You promised you would teach me to become the 'best archer in all Skyrim'. I can't do that shooting pots all day." She got up quickly, and brushed off her furs.

"Here," the Orc said, handing her a bowl of stew, "it's just finished."

"Thanks Rorgul", Selene replied, sitting on the stone floor to eat. "And I'm sorry for snapping at you, I just really wanted to go today. I'm already nineteen, and you told me last year I'd be able to go hunting this year." She looked up at him with her icy blue eyes, "I just want to help provide food for you. You've been taking care of me for nineteen years, the least I can do is watch out for you now. You're almost sixty!"

"Uh, don't remind me," the old Orc said, "most Orcs have died in the glory of battle by the time they reach my age, but I'm sitting here, cooking stew for an elf. A pretty elf", he said, giving her a wink. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if..."

"We're back!" A young Bosmer man walked into the room with a deer across his back. "And look at this! If it isn't the beautiful maiden of my dreams waiting for me!" He looked at Selene teasingly and spoke again, "You, my princess of the forest, come to my arms! I await the feel of your lips upon mine, of our hearts beating as one!" A grin crossed his face as an idea came to his mind, "I come bearing gifts!" He pulled the deer from his shoulders and offered it to her. The Bosmer's name was Thronir, a relatively young elf at 90 years of age, Thronir had been watching out for the group and teaching Selene how to shoot a bow for the last six years.

"Ugh!" Selene wrinkled her nose at the deer and pushed it away. "Thronir, how long do I have to put up with you?" She looked helplessly at Rorgul as he too was fighting a smile behind curved teeth. "Not you too Rorgul..."

_**9 Second Seed, Midnight**_

Selene was laying on her fur pallet, trying to sleep, when she heard hushed voices outside the building. She slowly got up and crept along the stone wall, until she was at the edge of the entrance, and she listened:

"I'm not taking care of no damned elf."

_That sounds like Gjek. _Selene thought. Gjek was a quiet Nord who had been with the group ever since Selene could remember. He never talked much to her, but he always was watching her from under thick eyebrows when she was around.

"You will take care of her, if you value your life."

_What's going on? _Selene had never heard Rorgul argue with anyone in her life, and this was the most Gjek had ever spoken.

"Listen you pig-faced Orc," Gjek sounded angry, "you may have spared my life that night, but I've been dead ever since. You killed my sister Silvi, and her husband Rogir, and now I'm having to take care of some elven whore. Yeah, I'm not afraid of you, now. That arrow-wound, not so bad as I make out, and you're old, you can't fight anymore."

Selene peeked around the edge of the door frame, just enough the see the two arguing in hushed tones. Were she not Lunari, she would have been unable to pick up the quiet discussion. It looked like Gjek and Rorgul were about to fight, each had a weapon in hand, the Nord a short sword, and the Orc an axe.

"You'll do no such thing, Thronir would kill you if you hurt her." Rorgul's voice had taken on an unusual quality, as if he knew this was a fight he couldn't win.

"Thronir?" The Nord laughed, a grim laugh filled with determination, "Thronir doesn't care about the witch, he only cares for his pay." Seeing Rorgul's expression, he continued, "You think I didn't know you paid him to watch out for her? I know you sold that Imperial Armor last year just to scrounge up enough gold for his salary. I'm not stupid, and," he nodded at the axe, "you can't swing that to save your life. You're too old for an Orc. You didn't die in battle, or kill yourself before it set in. So, fight me."

Selene watched in horror as events worse than her darkest dreams unfolded. Gjek, who had the Nord that got the arrow to the chest all those years ago, fought Rorgul like mad. Rorgul's axe couldn't parry in time, and a blow caught him deep in his right thigh. The Orc cried out in pain, and dropped to his knees. He was supporting himself with the axe, and struggling to stand, but Gjek cut his other leg before he was able. Suddenly, Selene found her voice: "Rorgul, NO!"

Rorgul looked up with a certain finality in his eyes, then horror as he realized Selene was in danger. "Selene, RUN!", he shouted just as Gjek lopped through his neck.

Gjek spun around, searching for the young elf. "Where are you, scum? You can't hide forever."

Selene had run back into the small building where they had been living to find her bow and quiver. She found them, despite tears flooding her eyes, and quickly notched an arrow. She pointed it at the door-frame and waited. Gjek walked in, eyes scanning the room, and then he locked on to Selene. She let the arrow fly, but instead of hitting him in the heart, as she had planned, her unsteady hands had caused the arrow instead to pierce him through the leg. Without missing a beat, she dropped the bow and picked up a small dagger she had been given by Rorgul when she was ten years old. She ran to the Nord, who was staggering as he tried to pull out the arrow, and she slashed the blade across his stomach. As Gjek bled, Selene grabbed her things: the bow and arrows, the furs, and the small dagger.

_I'm not waiting for Thronir, I don't know where he is, _Selene thought, _and after tonight, I can't trust him. _Tears still streaming from her eyes, she ran out into the night.


	2. Chapter 2: Wilderness

Chapter 2: Wilderness

_**Author's Note:**__A big shout-out to bhaktisean from the Skyrim Nexus__and all of his patience in answering my questions about the Lunari. Due to the close collaboration with him on the Lunari, the traits/attributes of the Lunari discussed in this story can be considered canon for the race. Thanks for the positive reviews for the first chapter! Due to the comments of some, I've decided not to increase the length of the chapters, against my previous plans._

_**4E 201, 9 Second Seed, 12:38 AM**_

Selene ran down the hill, and tripped over a rock, falling into the river. Her cap fell from her face, and was washed down the river Karth, eventually swallowed by the inky blackness. Even her elven eyes struggled to pierce the darkness as she struggled up onto the bank on the other side. Her furs were soaked, and she shrugged out of them, donning leather from her pack, thanking Meridia, the goddess of the Lunari, that it hadn't been lost in the river as well. As she changed clothing, she heard a voice through the darkness, "SELENE!, SELENE!", it cried.

_Thronir. _Selene paused, _I can't go back, without Rorgul, what's left for me?_ She tossed the furs in the river, and began running down the road, going nowhere in particular.

As she ran, Selene saw torches in the distance. Quickly, she hid behind a rock, and waited as the group passed by.

"Why do we have to guard the Reach?" It appeared to be three soldiers making night rounds. "Blasted Forsworn everywhere, we're more likely to find them than the Stormcloaks."

"I hear you. If there are Stormcloaks in the Reach, they'd be more insane than we are. The Forsworn don't care what color the armor is."

"Quit yer bellyachin'." The man in the lead seemed to be in charge. "We've got our orders, and we're going to carry them out, Forsworn or not."

"Yes sir!" The two men in the back quieted down after that. As they passed, Selene could see they wore Imperial armor: leather, cloth, and steel. It reminded her of the old armor that Rorgul had sold the year before. Thinking of Rorgul brought a fresh stream of tears into her eyes, and she ducked down so the gleam wouldn't give her away. After the soldiers had gotten far enough away, she quietly crept from around the rock and began to wander aimlessly.

Through the misty haze, dawn had begun to break. Selene was still on the road, walking, for walking's sake. The haze seemed to thicken the more time passed. Selene began to feel that her movements were being hampered by the thick mist. The suffocating fog pressed down on her, making her every breath feel slow and labored. The elf slowed, dropping to her knees and gasping at what seemed like thick bread rather than air. The last thing Selene saw before she passed out was the adorned headdress of a Forsworn Briarheart approaching from the road...

_**9:32 AM**_

When Selene awoke, she discovered that her hands were bound to the floor with corded ropes, which cut deeply into her wrists. She appeared to be in some kind of dungeon, but thankfully, she wasn't in a cell. The floor she sat on was filthy, covered with what looked like a century of waste and grime, and the smell: atrocious. She looked around; no guards. Breathing a sigh of relief, she ignited the ropes in magical fire, burning them away from her hands and standing up, eager to be free from this place. Selene examined the room. Squarish, it contained a table on which were some scattered papers, and a door on the far wall. She looked more closely at the papers on the table and noticed something odd; one of the papers was a single image: a bleeding heart. Pocketing the paper, she crept toward the door and slowly cracked it open, just enough to peek out and around the edge.

Outside was a dimly lit hall, and a Forsworn with his back to her. She began to walk quickly towards him, keeping low, but as she closed in, he suddenly swung around and his eyes widened in surprise. He charged, an axe in hand, and took a swing directly at her head, which she promptly ducked under, and bringing up her leg, kneed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain, dropping the axe, and Selene grabbed it. Without effort, purely reflexive, she lopped off his head and drove the axe into his chest. _Where did that come from?_ Selene had killed before, Gjek most recently, but never with such apathy. _Rorgul told me my people were hunters, but he never said we were killers_. Selene shook her head to banish the thoughts, and walked towards the door at the end of the hallway. She opened the door, and found herself in a room filled with Forsworn, all eating at long tables filled with food and mead. Still wearing her leather, she stuck out from the crowd badly, so she did the only the she could; she attacked.

_**4E 184, 27 Frostfall**_

The Orc had made the small lookout post into a serviceable homestead, with a cooking pot, three beds, and doors on either side of the ruin. The Nord had recovered, and had been the primary hunter for the group, bringing venison from the surrounding hills, and fresh produce from the nearby city of Markarth back to the group. The child had begun to walk, and was already showing great intelligence for one so young. She refused to eat the meat that the Orc stewed, only eating it when it was freshly caught by the Nord. Being a well-traveled creature, the Orc had begun to teach the child her history, of the proud Lunari hunters.

_**4E 201, 9 Second Seed, 10 AM**_

"When you've run into an ambush," Rorgul had always told her, "the way behind is closed, and the only thing you can do is meet it head-on."

_This isn't really an ambush, _Selene admitted to herself, _but it still works_. As she was thinking, she grabbed a bow standing against the wall and fired two arrows in rapid succession, pinning two of the Forsworn to their tables. She managed to get another arrow off, and into the arm of one of the bandits, before they charged. Selene ran to meet them, slid under and past, grabbing a sword out of the hand of one as she dodged the charge. She parried high, leapt, and gave a spinning slash to the face of one of her enemies. Four of the Forsworn were left standing. At the other end of the dining hall, a Forsworn woman had grabbed her bow and notched an arrow, aiming at the elf. Selene noticed the woman just as the arrow was loosed, and managed to avoid it, barely. Hefting the blade in her hand, sh threw the sword from hand directly into the shoulder of the archer, removing her from the fight. Turning her attention back to the three remaining bandits, Selene was bashed in the face by the fist of the man she had disarmed. Recovering more quickly than should have been possible, she kicked the man in the stomach, dived over one of the long tables and grabbed an axe from one of the dead Forsworn. Turning just in time to duck under a hasty slash by one of the bandits, she hacked the woman's legs from under her, and threw her body backwards to avoid a thrust by another. _Axes are so clumsy, _Selene thought as she fought mechanically, her body moving as if had a will of its own. She hurled the axe at the man she had incapacitated earlier, and with a scream of rage, let magical flames fly from her fingertips into the last of the Forsworn attackers, consuming him in a brilliant fireball.

Selene surveyed the carnage before her with an expression of disbelief. _Could I really have done this? _Selene was so entranced in her thoughts she almost didn't hear the clapping behind her. Spinning around, she saw the same Briarheart she had seen on the road earlier.

"Congratulations, my dear." The Briarheart made no move to attack, nor did he seem put off by the fact that she was covered in his people's blood. "I knew you would be a worthy sacrifice."

"Sacrifice? What are you talking about?" Selene eyed the sword next to her feet.

"Why, my dear to the Hagravens. Who else would such a worthy victim be given?"

"You think I would allow you to sacrifice me to monsters?" Selene waved her hand at the room. "Look at your people, and tell me what chance do you have?"

"Magic overcomes all," the Briarheart replied, "and I have quite the generous supply." He raised his hands at the ready.

"Well then," Selene shot back, "let us see who has more power." Praying to Meridia she would remember the only advanced magic she had ever learned, a ward, she charged at the Briarheart. The Briarheart shot out a lightning bolt at her, missing her by several inches, but close enough that Selene felt the heat from it against her cheek. Selene cast the ward just as another lightning bolt splashed across the magical shield. Selene felt power drain from her as the shield deflected the blow, but the ward held. She continued to charge, now only feet from the monster/man. She stepped up onto a chair in her way, and using it as a stepping stone, leapt at the Forsworn Briarheart. In her haste, she hadn't grabbed the sword on the floor, so she used her hand to tear into the Briarheart's chest. As he screamed, she pulled the Briar Heart from his chest, rendering him lifeless. Tossing away the Briar Heart, Selene saw the door to the fort was opened, and she ran out into the midday sun.

_Ach! _Selene looked at her hands, and saw small pinpricks throughout them. _It must have been the Briar Heart._ _Are they poisonous? _As she wondered, she could feel her limbs stiffen. _Paralysis!_ Selene struggled, but her body wouldn't respond. The poison seeped through her arms, legs, and neck, freezing her in place. She was trapped.

Selene didn't know how long she stood there, unable even to close her eyes, but after a time she felt a breath on her neck. "Ah what have we here?" A clawed hand turned her around to the twisted face of a hagraven. "That man told us, yes he did. Heh heh." The hagraven picked her up easily, the claws digging into Selene's skin, and carried her back inside. Up a winding staircase the witch/creature carried her. The climb seemed to take hours to the young Lunari, as the hagraven, none too gently, brought her to the top of the fortress. The hagraven opened a door to the outside and brought Selene into a clearing just above the tower. In the clearing were two more hagravens and between them, an altar.

Around the altar the hags chanted: "Another eye, another leg, another Imperial, dead!" They chanted this as they consumed what looked like it was once a person. Blood covered the altar, and the hagravens themselves, specifically around their mouths. As Selene was brought to them, the hagravens looked up at once, and eyed her with beady eyes.

"Ah," one croaked, "elf girl. So tasty."

"Yes," said another, "most tasty."

"Enough," said the one carrying Selene, "we had a deal with the man. A life for a life, we spared his for this," she motioned at Selene. "He delivered the girl, so what of him?"

_What? _Selene wondered at their words. _What are they talking about? The Briarheart?_

"Oh yes, that we did, but now he is dead." The hagravens around the altar seemed excited.

"Who killed him?"

"She did!" The hagravens' voices sounded oddly disharmonious as they spoke, like an instrument badly out of tune.

"That she did!"

Were she able to, Selene's mouth would have been gaping. _Gjek! Dead, and still trying to kill me._ The only question left unanswered was; _why?_

As if reading her mind, one of the hagravens spoke: "Ah yes sister, the poison you gave him was most clever." She started to croon: "A touch at morning, noon, and night, till we get the she-elf well in sight!"

At this, the lead hagraven placed Selene on the altar, and raised a dagger high above her head. At that moment, Selene found her voice and screamed...


	3. Chapter 3: Thronir

_Chapter 3:__ Thronir_

_**Author's Note:**__I apologize about the length of time this chapter has taken to be released, as well as the length of the chapter itself, as compared to others, but this one was much more difficult to write from a narrative standpoint. Besides that, it was written during one of the busiest parts of the year. I'll try to have the next chapter out on time._

_**4E 201, 9 Second Seed, 3 PM**_

Seemingly from nowhere, an arrow lodged into the wrist of the lead hagraven. The lead hagraven clutched her wrist as blood spurted from the wound, covering Selene and the altar. The other two hagravens spun around, searching for the attacker. Another arrow flew into the group, catching one of the hags in the leg, causing her to stumble and fall. The uninjured hag began to shoot fireballs in all directions, hoping to hit something. Selene managed to find her wits and grabbed the iron dagger that just a few moments before had been raised above her chest. She slashed the blade across the stomach of the nearest hagraven, causing the creature to crumple, and fall to the ground. A final arrow shot out and took the hagraven shooting fireballs in the head. The fight was over.

Selene looked around, trying to find her savior, but saw only air. She gave a start, dagger raised, as Thronir stepped from thin air. "Hey," he said, holding up his hands in surrender, "I just saved your life! Don't thank me with a dagger."

"Sorry," Selene didn't lower the weapon. "Listen, I know you just saved my life, but I know what you are. I overhead Rorgul and Gjek just before... before they died... mercenary." She spat the word out, as if it were something foul.

Thronir's face softened. "Hey, you don't understand how it is. Yeah I got paid by Rorgul, but I had a respect for the old Orc. You don't work for somebody for five years without gaining a certain level of friendship with them. These past few months, I knew the old man didn't have the money to pay, and so I didn't ask for it. We had an understanding, Rorgul and I." Selene had dropped the dagger to the ground, suddenly feeling her weariness from the days' struggle, and sat heavily against the altar. Thronir dropped to the ground, and sat beside her. "I can only imagine how rough last night must have been for you, but you have to believe me, I'm not an enemy."

Selene answered: "I know, Thronir, and I need your help now more than ever. Rorgul told me a few things about my people but," she nodded at the fortress entrance, "what happened in there doesn't make any sense to me."

Thronir understood, after all, one doesn't live for a century without learning a thing or two along the way. "Listen Selene, I know you are confused right now, but come with me, and I promise that you'll find yourself. We can't stay here, in the middle of a Forsworn camp. Even if you did manage to clear the inner keep, they most likely sent out hunting parties, which are bound to return at any time." He stood, and offered her his hand: "Come with me." Selene took it, and they ran. They ran around behind the fortress, going down the way Thronir had come up. They raced down the trail so quickly that they didn't notice the Forsworn scout no more than 10 feet away. He watched the two elves leave the fortress silently, and made his way back home.

_**4E 201, 9 Second Seed, 11:12 PM**_

They had traveled for hours; Selene followed Thronir, her mind still on autopilot. Through the journey Thronir had carried on with his usual banter, but Selene couldn't shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on. They finally arrived at a small cabin in the woods, just an hour earlier, and Thronir had introduced her to a Redguard woman, a hunter who seemed to watch everywhere and nowhere at once. Now they sat around a fire, eating fresh, nearly bloody venison from the Redguard woman's supply. The fire was surrounded by stumps, that probably served as chairs for guests to the Redguard's home.

"Camina," Thronir spoke jovially, "I didn't know you were still stuck out in this mudhole."

"Thronir," the woman replied coolly, "I didn't know you still were so short."

Thronir's mouth split in a wide grin as he replied: "Racism ill becomes you Camina, and you aren't so tall yourself."

Camina's mouth twitched in the smallest hint of a smile, "well, tall enough for a wood elf."

_How long has he known her, _Selene wondered. They seemed to have known each other all their lives, and to any outsider, including Selene, they would have passed for siblings if not for the obvious differences. Selene sat back against a stump and watched the pair's playful banter.

"Well, at least I'm the better shot," Camina made a shooting motion.

"As if. Wood elves are the best bowman in all Tamriel." Thronir had been drinking mead since they arrived, and his voice was beginning to slur.

Camina's eyebrows shot up, and the asked pointedly: "Well, what about her?" She pointed at Selene.

"Me?" Selene was momentarily jolted out of her inner questions.

"You're a Lunari aren't you?" Camina was looking at her expectantly.

"Yes...," Selene replied slowly, unsure of where the conversation was going.

Well," Camina replied, "then prove to this bum," she nudged Thronir, who standing at her side, "who's the best shot at this merry little party."

Thronir grabbed an apple from one of the stumps and lodged it in between the branches of a tree nearly 200 feet away from the fire. "Hit that," he challenged Selene, "as dark as it is, not even a Lunari could hit an apple at that distance..."

_**4E 201, 17 Rain's Hand**_

The old Orc had been preparing his afternoon meal, and the Wood Elf had gone into the nearby mining village of Karthwasten for supplies. The Nord was the only one capable of hunting, so he had been given the task, grudgingly, by the Orc. He was on his way back when he was ambushed by Forsworn. The hagravens were hungry, and they wanted fresh meat. The Nord had fought the Forsworn, but ultimately taken to a small clearing, and offered to the creatures. That Nord was crafty though, and he offered them something else instead. A young Lunari elf was nearby, and he could deliver her to them...

_**4E 201, 9 Second Seed, 11:52 PM**_

Selene confidently brought her bow to bear and took aim. _It is dark, _she thought to herself, _but if I just focus on where he lodged the apple, I can barely see it. _She drew back the bowstring to it's full length, and fired. The arrow flew through the air, whistling in the wind. So dark was the night, that Thronir would have sworn that Selene didn't fire an arrow at all, until the arrow clove the apple in two with a loud "_Schlop!"_

"How?" Thronir seemed to be at a loss for words.

Camina, apparently on the same page as Thronir, asked, "how did you even see that?"

Selene shrugged, and said, "I could see it in the tree, just barely. The light from the moon was enough."

"That little sliver of a moon?" Camina pointed at the sky. "That's not even a moon, and even for an elf, that's not light enough."

Thronir recovered himself and said, "well that was pure luck. A real archer would be able to hit this," he hefted a large piece of meat from their meal.

Selene, utterly calm, replied, "do it."

Thronir's throw was perfect. His arm drew back, legs flexing, and hurled the hunk of venison as hard as he possibly could, his every muscle in tune with his will. The meat hadn't left Thronir's hand before Selene had drawn her bow and taken aim. The throw flew only 30 feet before Selene had shot an arrow directly through it's center.

"Told you," Camina said to Thronir, but her voice was slightly shaky.

Thronir knew when he had been bested, but he had just seen the impossible. The night may have looked dimly lit to Selene, but to he and the Redguard, it was as black as pitch. Besides that, there was still a heavy fog covering the area.

"What's wrong?" Selene studied her companions. "I know it was a great shot, but it wasn't anything too challenging."

"Selene," Thronir cleared his throat, "you just shot a target that I would have struggled to hit in the daylight."

"I couldn't even see it," Camina piped in.

Selene, confused, sat down on one of the stumps. "What do you mean? It's not that dark, and I'm sure you could have hit it Thronir."

"Selene," Thronir said, deadly serious, "how much did Rorgul tell you about your people?"

"Not much," she admitted, "he said we were great hunters."

"More than that," Thronir replied, "the Lunari are the most skilled archers in Tamriel, or so it's been told. I had to see for myself to believe it. You haven't even had formal training and could easily best me in an archery competition."

Camina had sat down as well, and as Thronir spoke to Selene, she studied the young elf. There was something in her mind she couldn't quite remember, a niggling thought at the back of her mind. Suddenly she shot upright. "Thronir!" He turned to look at her alarmed face. "We have to get that girl out of the Reach. I just remembered, some Thalmor agents had come by earlier today, asking anyone in the area if they had seen a Lunari elf woman. It's got to be her."

Thronir grabbed Camina by the arms. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" He was practically shouting. "I don't know what _they _would want with her, but we've got to get her out of here _now_." Thronir had Selene grab a few pieces of dried meat and stick them in her pack, as well as a few apples. "Camina, aren't you going?" Selene looked at the Redguard woman.

"No child, you go, this has been my home for two decades, and I don't see that changing any time soon."

Thronir grabbed Selene's arm and virtually shoved her into the dark, misty night.


	4. Chapter 4: Thalmor

_Chapter 4: Pursuit_

_Author's Note: This chapter has been incredibly frustrating to write. I've had numerous computer issues during the course of writing, and have lost my work on the chapter four times already. I'm not sure how long this chapter will turn out to be, or how short, but I want to let everyone know that the story is not dead with some sort of update._

_**4E 201, 10 Second Seed, 5 AM**_

Selene's legs and back ached from running. Thronir kept up a brutal, seemingly mad pace as he ran through the hills, leaping over obstacles in his path. They had been running for hours, following first the Karth River, then when the River Hjaal, deep into Hjaalmarch. The air was noticeably colder here, and Selene shivered involuntarily. "Thronir," she called out, "can't we take even a few hours rest?"  
Thronir spun about, his eyes that of a madman, "What did you say? Rest? While the Thalmor are after us?" His voice was unusually strained, and spoke in a slight babble. "Oh of course, let's rest while they march, so that we can find ourselves prisoners on the 'morrow."  
Selene was shocked. Thronir had never been so insulting as long as she had known him. They hadn't spoken since he had heard the world thalmor, despite Selene's best efforts. Now that they had, Selene wasn't sure she should have bothered at all.  
Up ahead, Thronir stopped and turned around. "Hey, you're right, of course Selene. I'm just worried, that's all."

"How bad could these Thalmor actually be?" Selene had never seen Thronir upset by anything.

"Very bad," he replied. "I lived Valenwood during my youth, and I saw what the Dominion is capable of. I fled to Skyrim many years ago, to escape the Dominion. It seems no land is safe from them anymore."  
Selene walked over to him, boots sinking in fresh snow as she did. She lightly touched his arm. "What happened Thronir? What did they do?"  
The more they talked about the Thalmor, the darker Thronir's mood seemed to become. "What didn't they do," he spat bitterly. "Life means nothing to them, nature means nothing to them. They claim to be for the elves, well, they're really just for the Altmer." His eyes gazed into the distance as he remembered.

_**4E 132, 30 Rain's Hand**_

Fire. Smoke. The forest home of a family was burning to the ground, as Altmer soldiers watched, and laughed. The trees around were catching fire, but no one seemed to notice. The family tried to save what was left of the home, but all who went in were consumed by the flames. From a distance, a young elf boy watched, as his eyes burned with tears. He had been on his way home, home to a life that no longer existed...

_**4E 201, Second Seed, 6:12 AM**_

Thronir broke from his reverie, and turned to face Selene. "My family was killed, you know." His voice was unusually quiet, soft and fragile, like thin glass. "Our home caught fire mysteriously, and coincidentally my father was against the Dominion's influence in Valenwood. I hate every last one of them. And I will see them pay for their crimes."  
Selene had never seen Thronir so vulnerable, and she pitied him. When he spoke of his family, she could see tears pooling in his eyes, threatening to break free. He had mastered them, but not without some effort, she could tell. "Thronir," she began, "I'm sorry, I didn't understand. We will make them pay, but first we have to get to somewhere with people who feel as we do."  
Thronir straightened up, back in his commanding, but jovial persona. "Alright, it's time you knew. We're heading to Windhelm, not a friendly place for elves, but friendlier to us than the Thalmor. We may be able to find some help there, but if not, we can at least lay low for a time."

The pair began moving once more through the snow, trudging against winds that seemed to go straight through the layers of furs both wore, chilling them to the bone. Over mountains and plains they walked, avoiding the roads and populated areas. The never stayed in one spot for more than a few hours, constantly wary of their pursuers. They hunted as they went, traveling lightly so as to move more rapidly through the snow. They made excellent time in this fashion, arriving at the gates of Windhelm just 4 days after they had begun. If the Thalmor truly were following them, they were certainly far behind now, or so they thought.

_**4E 201, 14 Second Seed 8PM**_

A boot crunched in the snow, stepping on something buried beneath the layers of white powder. "Halt!", a voice cried out in the gloom. A hand reached down, and digging quickly, found a small dagger buried just below the surface of the snow. The dagger had inlaid markings on it, visible only to the finder's keen elven eyes. In darkness, the golden eyes glowed in triumph...


End file.
